Butterflies of God
by lumidai
Summary: He was quiet, he was just shy. He's empty, he has much to give. He knew everything since the beginning, he's had to learn through time. He hates humanity, and his love extends to everything. Where do their pieces fit, and who will assemble them? Artemis/OC, slash.
1. Chapter 1

**February 10, 2013**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, I will never own the characters or the series. This is a non-profit hobby I do for enjoyment. Nothing here is real and anything else is pure coincidence. However, the small village mentioned beneath is real, and located where stated.**

**A/N: I have not read the Last Guardian, so this takes place after the Atlantis Complex. I have perhaps read half of the first chapter, but anything else I have no idea what happens in the Last Book.**

**WARNINGS: This story will contain slash, so please don't ask me if this will be A/H in anyway. The first few chapters will be safe, but I'm putting it as T+ just in case. **

* * *

**Butterflies of God**

_By lumidai_

* * *

_"Me and you, let's become butterflies. So we could fly away, far away from here."_

* * *

Artemis Fowl, age 25.

Artemis Fowl is a broken boy. Experiences from his childhood had made him cruel and cold, and with his intelligence and wealth, the most dangerous person. He plotted against beings for his own reasons. He hurt other people to get what he wanted, and he knew he did, but he didn't care. Thankfully the fairies had managed to assemble him again, just a bit, but being away from them just reverted him back to what he was, and those frail pieces broke down again.

Humanity had disappointed him too much.

After the incident in Atlantis, Artemis was taken to extensive therapy in the clinic in the Lower Elements. He enjoyed the time he spent there, no matter how tedious the therapy sessions were. But, once the time came, and once he finally submitted into the final tests without humiliating the gnome doctor, he was let go onto the human world.

_A normal life, _Angeline had wanted. Well, as normal as a Fowl could get.

His father shared the business with him. They both shared the power, they both put their intelligence to it and Artemis won his own money _legally. _Obviously, Artemis started working after graduating, because it was obligatory to have a degree, no matter how intelligent Artemis was.

During his college years, he realized that his generation was lost. They were loud, immature, and couldn't go off without having sex once in a while. They were sensitive, crying and getting mad over little unimportant things. Those years were barely passed with an ounce of patience, and he paid them no importance. He didn't have many friends, but he didn't mind.

Adults were no better. Judging every little thing, and mocked your defects. They were manipulative, not only greedy. Artemis could stand these people, make them putty in his hands, because he was like them. If not worse.

And for a considerably young age in the business, he was very successful. He's had things planned out for him since the beginning, and he's bettered the plans.

His family was very proud. His father couldn't stop talking about his genius son to his peers. His brothers, Beckett and Myles, looked up to him. Especially Myles, who did everything to copy him. Beckett just smiled and obeyed and listened to him the best he could.

Angeline was also very proud. But she wasn't blinded by the success and polite facade. She could see the ugliest defects of her son.

Angeline Fowl, even though she was about to hit fifty years, was still bursting with energy. She's started many foundations for humanity, and now she has started another. _Warm homes for warm hearts, _was the title, or something like that. Artemis didn't hear, Angeline had been too excited and was talking to fast. It was help for the orphanages and homeless people.

And so he could sponsor and help out, Angeline dragged Artemis with his brothers. Butler came too. _"You'll love it!" _Angeline had said. Obviously, Angeline's reasons were others, but Artemis was too annoyed to notice.

They traveled to a small village millions miles away from the busy city life, a small quaint village with the name of Dalkey in the Dublin County. It overlooked the sea, and was filled with small seaside restaurants, plus a castle and a mountainside folly, it was quite nice.

They stopped in front of a small building at the edge of the village. The matron was a small, elderly and pudgy woman, and came out almost immediately to give them a big hearty salute.

"Oh, I'm so happy you're here! Welcome, welcome! I hope you feel comfortable, perhaps we should-" Artemis lost attention.

The building from the outside looked decent. It was a small mansion with made with cobble, and besides was a small bronze plaque that read "Saint Bridgid's Home for Children". Once the tour started, then you could see in what conditions they were.

Moldy was the word Beckett used. Deteriorating was one that Myles used. Both fit, Artemis thought.

The paint was chipping off, some of the floors were chipping too and a few were pure concrete. In some corners, there was mold and holes, and there was water dripping from the ceilings too.

"I try to keep it clean, so it doesn't look so bad," says the Matron. "But some things can't be helped. The council has been saying they'll help but no help has been given."

The kids looked like all their clothes were hand-me-down. A lot of their pants or sweaters were sewn. There were a few toys, the Matron says that they shared. There were a few helpers here and there, but too little for the amount of kids that were here.

"You will have absolute support. The Fowl Enterprises will help fund it, right Arty?" says Angeline, looking at her son expectantly.

"Of course," Artemis says, but he could really care less. He had nothing else to do here, especially not for screaming children.

Their tour continued. They went to what seemed a backyard, that was a large field of green that had some swings and a slide and was closed off by a wooden fence. Kids were shrieking and laughing, surrounded a tall figure, a boy it seems, begging for piggy back rides.

"Make a line!" the boy says, smiling kindly to the kids and picking up a small boy first.

Then they went to the kitchen, which was in such poor state and the most deteriorated, Artemis was slightly disgusted by it. They went up the stairs and went to the nursery, where the babies were currently having their nap. Some were sharing cribs. They went to the dormitories, boys and girls had separated rooms. The boy's room overlooked the backyard, which had a lovely view of the castle from beyond. It was painted blue, with lots of drawings stuck onto the wall. The girl's room was painted a light tone of pink, with lots of flowers and other girly things in it. This looked in best conditions, as the Matron said that the children were her priority.

They went down the stairs and passed by the nurse's office. They paused for a moment to look into another room, but Artemis looked into the office.

"...and you have to be more careful too. You're so little you can get pushed around so easily." The voice spoke sweetly, it was the same boy from the backyard. His voice was gentle, like he was trying to be soothing for the little girl that was still whimpering. He bandaged the small girl's arm and after he finished he kissed it. "Better now that I kissed your boo-boo goodbye?" he smiles.

The girl giggled and nods. "Thank you, big brother-"

Artemis turned away to walk on.

"May we meet the children?" Angeline asks once they finished their tour.

"Of course!" The Matron gave a large smile, and held a finger up. "Just a moment, wait for me in the lobby please." The Matron left and they walked to the wide lobby. The mansion, the Matron had said, had been donated to them more than sixty years ago.

Moments later, a large line of children came in, and they were ordered from oldest to youngest, some of the oldest carrying a baby, sometimes two children were holding hands.

"Now kids, I want you to to introduce yourselves to Mrs. Fowl and her family. Remember your manners."

First they all greeted them with a loud "Good afternoon!" The Matron first introduced them to the ones who can't speak yet, then the kids continued.

The small girl with a bandage on her arm went first. "I'm Amelia, and I'm three!" She held out three fingers.

They went on. The oldest must've been a ten year old girl.

"Are these all?" asks Angeline, looking at the Matron.

"Well, some are having their nap, and..." she cleared her throat. "It's your turn. Don't hide, come now, they mean no harm.

There was some rustling and shuffling heard. The same boy from the backyard and nurse's office, was leaning against the wall and slowly went up to the line. "My name is Christian, please call me Chris. I am seventeen years old," he says, not looking up and he was fidgeting with his hands. He looked up slowly and gave a small smile of gratitude. "Thank you so much for your help." He bowed his head.

Artemis gave him a better look now. The boy, Chris, was considerably short and had soft features for a male. His skin tone was medium, with a few beauty marks. His hair was a chestnut brown. It was long and messy, probably for all the activity he's had with the children. His eyes were a dark shade of green, and his eyes were wide.

Curious, how such an old boy could still remain at an orphanage.

"How darling," Angeline says, smiling wide. "I will have a talk with my son here and we will come back tomorrow. I can't wait to see them again."

Artemis wanted to scowl, but he says, "We will have mother's assistant contact you through nonetheless."

"Thank you so much!" says the Matron for the umpteenth time, but now she was near tears.

The children had left, but the Chris still lingered, mixing in the background. As they walked out, Artemis saw the Matron holding his hand. Once they left, he could hear her expressing her happiness. Chris shared her excitement, nodding to her.

His voice seems louder now.

-o0o-

The next day, no matter how much Artemis protested, he returned with his mother.

"I don't know why mother wants me there. It's not like I'll help physically, and I'll only interfere with Mother's plans."

"Your mother has her reasons," Butler says. "Perhaps she just wants you to observe, to learn."

Artemis scoffed. "I took care of Beckett and Myles when they were toddlers, I know enough. And what else? To see how good can change something? She'll have to try harder," he rolls his eyes.

Butler frowns. It was strange, even after what they've been through, even after Holly had drilled morals into him, Artemis turned into the same person. Why was the question. "But you're a good person. You've helped before."

Artemis stood silent then walked on. "Humans are another thing. Helping them directly is something else. I rather not touch the topic."

Once they were shown the more serious things, what needed to be tended to right away, Artemis was free to wander around with Butler.

The backyard was out of the question, and the kitchen was too disgusting, ahem, in such a poor state.

He walked to what was probably the quietest place in the orphanage right now. The dormitory. He walked to the doorway, and stood there.

"Does your head hurt?" asks a familiar soft and soothing voice. It was Chris again, sitting besides a little boy who was holding his head. He ran his hand through the boy's hair, like a mother would to her child.

"Yes..." replied a smaller voice, allowing the gesture.

"Well, perhaps a nap will take it away. Once I'm finished with chores, I'll take care of you, how does that sound?" Chris asks, sounding a bit cheerful now.

"O-Okay," the boy nods.

Chris laid him down on the proper bed and tucked him in, then resumed making the other beds, replacing the dirty sheets with the most cleanest.

Butler cleared his throat.

Chris jumped at the sudden sound. "Ah! I'm so sorry, did I ignore you?" He moved around in place and wrung his hands nervously. "I didn't notice you were there, Mr. Fowl."

"It's fine," Artemis replies, looking at him. It was amusing, watching him fluster. Chris bit his lip, squirmed, looked at everything except him and Butler. It was difficult not to chuckle.

"M-May I help you with something? Are you lost?" Chris stammered.

Artemis shook his head. "No, it's fine," he repeats. "I'm just watching. You may resume what you were doing."

Even Butler looked at Artemis, that was so unlike him.

"Alright," Chris says slowly, blinking. He was more clumsy now, since he knew that he was being watched. He bumped into more things, dropped some sheets, and hurt himself. This time, Artemis chuckled.

"I-I'm sorry I'm such a klutz," says Chris, picking it a blanket up.

"You're in no pressure," shrugs Artemis. "Are these your only chores?"

Chris shook his head. "I have to clean the girl's room too."

"Am I disturbing you and making you feel uncomfortable in any way?" Artemis asks.

Chris shook his head furiously. "N-No! I'm just not used to people watching me. It's new to me."

"Butler here won't hurt you," Artemis jokes.

Chris gave a soft laugh. "He is scary but I know he won't hurt me."

"I wouldn't say that," Butler says. Chris cringes.

"Ah, I made a list of what the things the house has. The Matron will look at it, and I want to make sure it's correct. Will you look at it for me?" Artemis says, taking a sheet of paper out, handing it to Chris.

Chris barely looked at it. "It's fine," he says.

Artemis looks at him intently. "Are you sure? Especially with the broken stairs?"

"There were broken stairs here?" Chris looks at the list.

Artemis frowns. "Did you even read it?" asks Artemis.

Chris stares at the list, but not at them. He shook his head.

"Do you even know how to read?" Artemis says, getting irritated now.

Much to his surprise, Chris shook his head again. "No. I don't."

Artemis stood straight and now both him and Butler stares at Chris. "Are you serious? You don't know how to read?"

Chris shook his head.

"Why? You can't even do math?"

"I can do math," says Chris. "I just can't read. I only finished nursery school and primary school. Never went to secondary."

Artemis took a step back. Idiots were something he was used to, but this...? "And why is that?" he asks.

Chris hesitated. "I couldn't afford school supplies or other things the school asked for. Plus, the Matron needed more help here. I couldn't leave her alone."

"So you're basically uneducated by choice?" Artemis says slowly.

Chris winced. "Basically," he nods.

_But with reason, _said the small voice in Artemis's voice. His conscious. Much to his annoyance, it sounded like Holly. He gave a large sigh. _Might as well do something to distract myself with, _he thought.

"Would you like to read?" he asks Chris.

Chris looks up and nods this time. "Very much."

"I'll teach you."

* * *

**I took the Artemis Fowl OC litmus test and Chris passed.**

**Yes, this will be slash, so there will be a romance between the two. I estimate thirteen chapters for this story, with an epilogue. And as requested, I'm making Artemis the dominant partner, or seme, however you want to call it.**

**Thank you so much for reading, and please review, I'd like to hear your thoughts.**


	2. Chapter 2

**February 17, 2013**

**A/N: Here we will see a lot of "First Class" and "Fourth Class", but I researched a bit about Irish Education and saw that's how they refer grades as. For example, First Class is basically First **_**Grade **_**and Fourth Class is Fourth Grade and so on. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.**

**Age Reminders: Artemis - 25 years old, Chris - 17 years old, Butler - somewhere between his fifties, Beckett and Myles - 13**

* * *

**Butterflies of God**

_**By lumidai**_

* * *

"_I will tell you stories every day."_

* * *

A few days before, the Matron received a letter. That was rare, since the orphanage barely received letters like this. Least to say she was surprised, especially when the card started off with "We will help you with your warm home!"

More surprised was the elderly woman when the letter's referrer called herself Angeline Fowl. _"Fowl, Fowl, why does that name sound familiar?"_

Then realization struck. She almost lost her breath. The Matron stood, and went searching for him, for the oldest "son" she had here.

Said son was in the kitchen, having a late night snack since he has been suffering insomnia for the last two weeks. _The _day was coming so quickly. For once in his life, he dreaded that day.

He was caught chowing down on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich when the Matron came in, fanning herself.

Chris stood and held the woman by her shoulders, leading her to a chair to sit down. "Mom, what's going on? Are you okay?" he gave her a worried look. Though the Matron wasn't his biological mother, the woman had been there for him his whole life and treated him like a real son. He in return, treated her like a real mother.

Once the Matron caught her breath, she read the letter aloud to him. Chris, just as she had, took a long time to process this.

"The Fowls?" he blinks, and the Matron nods.

Once he realized, his face broke into a large smile. "That's great! You can finally get so much more help, and better. You deserve this mom."

The woman looks up to gaze at Chris. Her wrinkly face stretched as she smiles, her kind eyes glittering. "The help you've given me over the years has been wonderful too, son, don't forget. You can finally stop worrying."

-oOo-

Chris had watched as the car rolled up, observed as their helpers came out, and left before they came in and saw him.

He hadn't noticed they saw him playing with the children and he didn't realize it was Artemis Fowl II watching him bandage Amelia's arm. He had noticed that someone had been watching but he just never saw who.

When they came up to introduce themselves, he had hoped he would mix in the background like always and not have to do it, but the Matron had encouraged him. Since his existence was made known, he reluctantly introduced himself, and thanked them in the end.

Their questioning looks made him feel uncomfortable, and he could just feel Artemis eyeing him. He wanted to run away, but he lingered since the Matron was about to burst into tears. They were tears of joy, but he had to be there anyways.

After they left, Chris patiently answered all the children's questions, since they noticed the strangers that hadn't come to adopt them.

Their questions didn't annoy him. He was very patient, he was used to waiting.

The next day, Chris tried to avoid them by doing his chores. His bad luck, Artemis Fowl found him, watched him, spoke to him. He could barely look at him; much less speak to him without stuttering.

And he dreaded when Artemis asked him to read the list. He looked at it, and the big words used there made his head hurt and he could only recognize some words. To avoid any mental stress, he barely looked at it, and lied.

It was his bad luck again, Artemis was an expert liar, and could easily detect lies. And even if he couldn't, his genius could help him notice the obvious, and he obviously noticed he didn't read it. "Are you sure? Especially with the broken stairs?"

Chris looked at the list again. "There were broken stairs?" He wanted to avoid his questions.

But he asked more. As noted, Chris is a terrible liar, so he just answered honestly. Even to his most personal question.

"Can you even read?" That was a question he would've preferred not answering, but he answered honestly anyways.

Chris could feel the stunned silence. He prepared himself for the taunts and insults. But that never came. Instead, it was more questions.

And an offer.

Chris stares at Artemis, still holding the list. He couldn't tell if he was serious. He was looking at him, but not at his face. When he found his voice, he stammers out a "What?"

"I will teach you," Artemis repeats. "I've taught my brother when he was five, a person like you shouldn't be difficult."

Chris could just imagine the great Artemis Fowl II teaching him, almost a grown up, to read. He shook his head furiously. "N-No! I know how to read! It's alright." As much as Chris wanted to sound convincing, he couldn't. Not even he believed himself.

Artemis lifts a thin elegant brow. "Read the first sentence for me." It wasn't a request, it was an order.

Chris makes a pained face and lifted the list close to his face. "Sssah…sawihnts? Bri…digeds h-h…" His elbows twitched when Artemis interrupted, his face was as pained as his own.

"Stop, that's enough." Artemis rubs a temple. "You said you finished primary, how isn't it that you don't know how to read?"

Chris stares at the floor; he didn't want to look at Artemis's expression. "I lost practice," he explains. "I only went through first to fifth class. It's been six years that I've read a big book." Chris wanted to say something in defense, to show he wasn't completely stupid. "But I _do _know how to read and how to do math. Look." He walks a corner of the large room, which had a small bookshelf filled with old notebooks and old thin books. "I practice by helping the kids do their math tables and reading books to them. They like this one." Chris hands a thin book to Artemis, who opened it at a random page.

"Sally and Dick hid from the big bad wolf…" Artemis read aloud softly and then continued for a few seconds to read in silence. He looks up at Chris. "This is a first class book."

"Exactly," nods Chris, still looking onwards because he embarrassed. Here he was with a genius! One of Ireland's, perhaps the world's, greatest minds! Artemis intimidated him, he knew he would scoff and laugh at him and call him a _retard, _like people usually did. He wasn't stupid though. He just didn't know how to read.

"But you said you know math," Artemis says, closing the book. "11 times 11?"

"121," Chris answers automatically. "Easy."

"Oh? How about 121 times 121?"

Chris didn't hesitate. "14, 641."

"And that number times itself divided by thirteen?"

It wasn't even half a minute when Chris answered. "16, 489, 144," then added, "point eleven."

Artemis was impressed. All were correct. Perhaps there was some hope in Chris. "What is the square root of 815?"

"What's a square root?" Chris frowns.

Artemis gave a deep sigh. There goes hope. "You said you knew math."

Chris inched away from Artemis, more than nervous now. Even the bodyguard is staring at him. "I only know the basics…addition, subtraction, basic things the kids here usually need help with."

"Then you're definitely primary," Artemis murmurs. "Why don't you return to school?"

Chris gnawed on his lip, still nervous. "Because I can't, I'm too busy looking for a job. I _need _that more than I need school right now."

For a moment, Chris sounded desperate. Artemis eyes him as Chris chewed on his lip (a habit he detested on women, with men it annoyed him more). Chris fidgeted and stared at the floor. At first he thought him rude, he never looked at him when they were speaking to him. Then Artemis remembered that he probably intimidated him, like he usually did to other people.

"Look up at me," Artemis demands, and Chris slowly did. He made no direct eye contact though, which please Artemis. He says, "Once you finish your chores I will meet you downstairs and begin the first class. I will teach you how to read and how to write, and I shall make you an expert in math. Be quick with those chores, my time is short."

Chris's eyes looked downwards again and he shook his head. "After chores I have to take care of Ben." Chris walked to the now sleeping boy of earlier, and felt his forehead. "He has a fever."

"And? Tell the nurse," Artemis says simply, not caring much for Ben. The small boy was probably four or five.

Now Chris looks at him in the eye. "I said I'll tend to him and I will." His voice sounded louder, as Chris realized this he shies again. "Besides, it's Sunday today and Ms. Redwall takes her day off today. I'll just make him a soup, give him medication and help him take a bath."

Artemis looks at his watch. "It is 4:04 right now," he states. "I leave at 5:30. Six at the most."

Chris's gaze lowers again. "I'll try to finish chores quickly but…perhaps tomorrow, Mr. Fowl? Please, just if I don't finish today."

The boy sounded so hopeful. "Tomorrow I'll be going to Dublin for a meeting," Artemis says, seeing how Chris visibly deflated.

To try to hide this, Chris fidgeted more with his hands. It was a habit. "Oh…It's alright. I understand."

"But," Artemis started. "I will return the day after, on Tuesday. I promised Mother I would help her with this project."

Chris smiles and nods. "Okay. I'll be waiting."

-oOo-

Chris had been waiting patiently all day the next day but his excitement was obvious. On Tuesday, he had gotten up early to finish his chores before they came.

Only Mrs. Fowl came, the twins had returned back home. Artemis wasn't with her. He was silently disappointed, but knew he couldn't have expected anything. Mr. Fowl wasn't going to come.

But Artemis came, with the contractor with him. The renovation was going to begin soon. More surprising was seeing Butler carrying a large box.

Chris sat on his bed, reading the thickest and hardest book he could get, one of the children's book, a seventh class book. Artemis knocked on the dormitory door, and Chris got up immediately to answer it.

Artemis looks around. "Is this where we'll be working in?" he asks.

Chris gave a slow nod. He had forgotten how nervous Artemis's presence made him. "W-Well, no other place in the orphanage is quiet right now, and most of the kids are doing their homework in the library."

Artemis repressed a frown and went to sit on a bed that was besides the one Chris sat on. Butler set the box on the bed besides Artemis, Chris couldn't help look at the box curiously.

Artemis took a random book out of the box. "Your skills are probably up to third class, perhaps even fourth. This," he outstretches the book and Chris took it and looks at the title. Something about children and stars.

"That is a sixth class book," completes Artemis. "But first we will affirm your skills, yes?"

Chris nods silently, clutching the book.

The following hour was spent reading the simplest books of the orphanage. Those he read without any difficulty, going quickly but with a stutter here and there.

"_It's probably just me and Butler making him nervous," _thought Artemis.

But once they finally got to the explaining part (it was decided that Chris was up to fourth year) wandering kids began to come.

"Whatcha doing?" The majority asked. Even when they answered and Chris politely requested them to leave and go play outside, they persisted. They kept asking questions, grabbed things, or they asked Chris (even Butler) for piggyback rides. Only a few obeyed when they told them to leave.

Artemis was currently rubbing his forehead as Chris shooed the last one away. "How you have patience," he says tiredly, "is beyond me."

"Practice," Chris says, giving a slight shrug. "I've lived with small children all my life, I'm used to giving piggyback rides and answering questions."

"Do you have another place? Perhaps somewhere more quiet and private?" Artemis stresses the _quiet _part.

Chris kept clutching the same book from earlier, and he looks at his feet as he thought. "There is one place," he says eventually, nodding. "Follow me."

They were taken out to the backyard, Butler carrying the box. Then they went beyond the wooden fence, and walked to a small cluster of trees that was by the orphanage.

Chris walks to the largest tree there, a large oak tree of gigantic proportions. There was a rope ladder hanging from a branch, and on top was nicely built tree house.

"This is where I go when I need some piece of mind," Chris says, touching the tree fondly. "The Matron let me have it because I used to be a frustrated fifteen year old," he jokes dryly.

Artemis looks at the tree house distastefully. _Climbing, _he thought with a scowl.

"And you built the tree house on your own?" he heard Butler ask.

"No," Chris shook his head. "I _did _help though. If I did it on my own I would've broken something. I'm so clumsy," he sighs.

Butler climbs up slightly to touch the base of the tree house. "It's sturdy," he nods.

"And since the kids are forbidden to pass the fence and most can't climb up the ladder anyways, we'll have our peace and quiet," Chris says, forever looking somewhere else rather than Artemis.

"Fine," Artemis says. "As long as we have peace and quiet. Butler, the box," he commands.

"I'll help with that!" Chris says immediately, climbing up the ladder skillfully. "The box," he says once he was on the tree house. He outstretches his hands to Butler, and Butler climbed up a bit to hand him the box. Though he almost dropped it, Chris managed to put the box inside.

Chris waits for Artemis, looking beyond towards the orphanage. His legs were dangling off the branch and he kicked them.

Artemis hesitated, but eventually climbed up clumsily. He made it to the branch, and he stepped inside the tree house. Butler stayed on the ground, to look out for anything strange.

_How ridiculous. A twenty-five year old man in a tree house, _Artemis thought.

The tree house had two rooms and a roof, whoever built it did a good job. The first room, the smallest, had two beanie bag chairs and a stack of comic books in one corner. They were untouched, because Chris didn't know how to read. Artemis wondered who their owner was. The second room, the largest, had a twin sized mattress on the floor, with a surprisingly clean blanket and a pillow. There was a large window almost the size of the wall that overlooked the castle, and there were various posters hung to the wall. They were of bands; most were American bands of the eighties. There were also a lot of some horror movie and a few comic book character posters plastered on the wall. Artemis almost snorted at all this. The only thing that interested him were of the well done drawings in one corners, sketches of the Matron and of other people, most were sceneries though. They had amazing detail with great shading, the perception was caught well.

"Did you bring all of this from the orphanage?" asks Artemis, looking at Chris as Chris sat on the mattress.

"I bought it all actually," Chris says. "I did have some money when I used to work. And to be honest I only bought the beanie bag chairs, the blankets and the pillow. The rest…the mattress, the comics and the posters were brought by someone else," Chris's voice became hoarse, his expression sullen.

"And the drawings?" asks Artemis, looking a particular one of a sleeping faceless man, who was leaning against the wall.

"Er, I drew them," says Chris. "I have a lot time of my hands and I don't really like watching TV. That's no one," he says quickly, noting how Artemis was looking at that particular drawing. "Just a random person that came up on my head."

Artemis decided not to press the subject further, and began where they had left off. Of course that was somebody, Chris didn't know how to lie.

They finished their lesson of the day when Angeline called for Artemis to help make business with the contractor. Again, their lesson was cut short, but overall Artemis was pleased by the quick results. Chris could read a fifth class book without difficulty, and he started reading sixth class books.

Chris still couldn't look at him or speak without stuttering. Artemis no longer minded the stuttering though, because Chris was eager to learn from Artemis. He, unlike other people, listened.

Artemis felt oddly comfortable.

-oOo-

The days went on like that; they made a routine of it. They went to the tree house and Artemis no longer minded climbing up the ladder.

Chris read aloud to him every day, but they usually read in silence. Both he and Artemis read, Chris reading his primary and secondary books while Artemis read his more advanced books. They were accompanied by a comfortable silence; sometimes even the sea that was close by was heard.

Chris occasionally broke the silence only to ask the meaning and pronunciation of a word, and Artemis would answer. Their silence returned a moment after.

Artemis liked this, how they seemed to bond by not even speaking a word. He likes how Chris didn't force conversation on him; it was as if each other's company was enough.

Chris noticed how comfortable they were together, and he occasionally looked up to gaze at Artemis for a second, and thought about how he never seemed to show any emotion. But after observing, he knew Artemis wasn't completely emotionless. His lips turned up a bit at the corners when he read something he found funny, he frowned when it was something sad or something of the style. He seemed to read faster when he was excited, to the point where it looked that he was paging the book, and would finish that long book in two days. But Chris knew that if Artemis gave a content sigh after finishing the book, then he really liked it.

And Artemis's grammar and spelling lessons went by in a flash, because Chris was very quick in learning. If one really wanted, Artemis noticed, they could easily learn.

Two weeks have passed. They finally felt at peace with each other, and a silent friendship had been formed.

Right now they were having their silent reading session, and Chris was reading some eighth class book. There was a paragraph that caught his attention, it went:

_Silence is pure; it draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit with each other without speaking._

That same day, when they took a break from their grammar lesson, Chris and Artemis finally started to have a decent conversation.

"The Matron almost had a heart attack," says Chris, commenting to Artemis on their reaction when they received Angeline's letter. He took a bite of his cookie, he was sitting cross legged on the mattress, Artemis was on a chair they had brought because he refused sitting on the mattress and on the floor. "Your mother has very pretty handwriting."

"I'm surprised you understood it," Artemis rolls his eyes, drinking his mineral water. "Mother was too excited to write slowly, she basically scrawled everything down."

Chris gave a soft chuckle and he shrugs. "I couldn't," he says. "But the Matron could, that's what mattered. It's cursive handwriting, right?"

Artemis nods. "Correct. But like I said, she was too excited to write correctly."

"Do you remember that list you made?" Chris says, suddenly changing the subject. "The one you asked me to read?"

"What of it?"

"You missed out on some stuff."

Artemis frowns. "I checked on it more than twice. What else does the house have?"

"Well," Chris starts off slowly. "That's just it. You only focused on the house. You forgot to write down what the children needed, like how we have very little volunteers and how we need more activities out of the orphanage. We're trapped in here."

Artemis took his PDA out and began typing it down as Chris explained what they needed. It was simple things, like more food, new furniture, new clothes, and especially new toys, he stressed that point.

"And you know what we need the most?" Chris says.

"What is that?" Artemis asks, looking up at wide green eyes, wide and round as plates.

"A psy-psyk-k-," Chris frowns at his stuttering. He didn't stutter because he was nervous anymore though.

"A psychologist," completes Artemis.

"Yeah, that. You know, we need someone to help us understand things. Why they happened. You remember Jenny? She's thirteen."

"Yes, I remember," Artemis says, nodding. He remembered the oldest girl of the children. She had looked ten though.

"Well she wasn't originally an orphan. It was probably three years ago that her parents died in a car crash. Worse yet, no one from her family wanted to take her in. I guess she's still not over it, I wouldn't be," Chris made a thoughtful face, then says, "A person that could help us understand why sometimes we're not wanted, or at least help us understand why somethings just seem to happen…and let us feel _wanted _like normal people for a moment would feel nice." Chris stares at Artemis as he typed it out.

Then Artemis looks up at Chris. "And what happened to you?" he asks.

Chris winced. That was another question he didn't like answering.

"My story isn't interesting."

* * *

**Please review. And I know most of you are like _"But Arty obviously isn't gay!_"...I know. I'm trying to make this as realistic as possible. I hope you guys are enjoying it though, and I would like to hear your thoughts.**


	3. Chapter 3

**April 26, 2013**

* * *

**Butterflies of God**

_by lumidai_

* * *

_About humans_

* * *

"Not interesting? Why is it not interesting?" Artemis frowns. Yes, there is a possibility that Chris might be the typical orphan whose parents died, but that didn't matter.

"It just isn't. I'm a boring person, Mr. Fowl." Chris looks out the large, wall-sized window. "The renovations are going great, don't you think?"

"Yes, I know," Artemis says quickly, knowing Chris is trying to avoid the subject. Why though is the question. What is so bad that Chris doesn't want to tell him? "But back to the question."

Chris flinched. "I don't..." he sighs, and stands, facing the window.

"He's living in an orphanage, Artemis. Would you like to speak about it? Do you think he even knows?" Holly's voice scolded him in his mind.

"Perhaps," Artemis answers her. "I just feel the childish need to know."

Chris felt Artemis's waiting gaze burn a hole in the side of his head. He hated answering this question. Only two times in his life has he been asked this, this being the second time. It was an intrusion to the very little privacy he had.

But right now he felt forced to tell Artemis. The man —because Artemis is indeed eight years older than himself, if not 7— has been educating him for free. At least, if he so much wanted to know, he should answer. He owes him that much to not hide things from him.

"What was the question again?" Chris asks, finally facing him and meeting his gaze. Strangely, he didn't feel afraid of meeting those mismatched eyes right now.

"What happened to you?" Artemis asks, changing the question because the first one sounded more cruel. "To put it more simpler, were you always an orphan?"

Chris nods. "Since I remember. My first memory was calling the Matron mama, I took a long time to gain the courage to begin speaking." He gave a small smile, like he wanted to laugh. "I remember growing up and thinking, hoping I was being searched for. That perhaps I had been stolen or that my parents were some great thing and died for some noble cause." His smile widened. "At one point I actually thought I was like Superman and that I came from outer space."

"Don't we all?" Artemis says dryly, closing his book.

"The Matron liked to humor me," Chris chuckles, and his wide smile saddens. "I turned twelve and one day the Matron told me that I understood a lot of things most kids didn't at my age. Sure, by that time I had left school but...I seem to understand life in my own way, in my own perception." Chris glances at Artemis's expression, which seems surprised.

Which he is. Amazing, he thought. Not even I have accomplished that.

"She told me at age twelve what really happened," Chris's voice got softer, and his eyes lowered a bit. "My mother was a prostitute. The Matron said I lasted three months with her, probably. She couldn't take care of me and I guess I got in the way. She could have aborted me, but she didn't so I'm grateful that she kept me alive. I know her name is Sharon Donahue, it said so on the birth certificate she left behind. I'll never know who my father is though, not that I'm interested," shudders Chris. "And to answer your question from earlier, of whether I was wanted or not, I wasn't wanted."

Artemis sat silent, understanding now why Chris didn't want to speak about it.

How would you feel if you were an accident of two people who barely knew each other? Of two people that got together for payment and pleasure, not for anything else? And that you were considered of something that got in the way rather of something that lives?

Artemis couldn't relate, but because of what Holly has taught him, he felt guilty of asking that question.

"But I'm happier here more than I would have probably been if I had stayed with my mother," Chris chirps. "This is my family. The Matron treats us all like her children, with love and care. The children here are really like my siblings. We even bicker sometimes but we take care of each other." Chris grins proudly.

Artemis eyes his expression. "You seem very proud of that," he says, in a somewhat sarcastic tone. He hadn't felt that love and care from his parents up until recently and he's never bickered with his brothers, but he's heard and seen them bicker with each other plenty of times. "How a moment of frustration with a person could make you happy, I do not understand."

"Well, it's what makes us human, right?" says Chris, flopping down on the mattress again. "The emotion, I mean. Humans have emotions.

"Most of them do," Artemis explains. "A few learn how to control them."

Chris tilts his head to the side curiously and he blinks. "But don't they still have them? Because they only hide them, right? Like you do, Mr. Fowl. But I know when you get excited or frustrated, it shows in your face." Chris pointed to his mouth and brow. "See? You're human."

Artemis gave him a cold stare and Chris gave him an awkward embarrassed smile.

"After I left school I immediately started working," he says, immediately changing the subject. "Not a whole lot of jobs hire twelve year old boys. They paid very little for the hours I worked daily, which were a lot. Sometimes I worked from early in the morning to late at night to win more. I worked in crops, or herded animals, or did the cleaning up at supermarkets. It went on like that until I was fifteen when I started working at a diner during the day as a busboy. I would've been a waiter but I couldn't read or write very well at that time," Chris sighs.

"And they hired you just like that? An uneducated minor?" Artemis lifted a brow, incredulous.

"At that time, I guess," Chris rubs his sore neck from reading too much. "The boss I had...was so kind," he swoons wistfully. "He was a bit older than you are now, but he didn't look like it. He seemed like those big, buff and mean bikers, but he was a big soft geek," Chris chuckles at the memory then silences. "I was harassed a lot at work, by workers and customers alike. Because I was an old orphan, or because I quit school, or because I look like a girl or because I'm short. My boss taught me how to defend myself, but most of the times I just ignored them. The diner closed down last year since my boss was offered a better opportunity outside of the county."

"You seem fond of your boss," says Artemis, who obviously noted the swoon. Chris proceeds to blush at the remark.

"W-Well he was my first best friend you know," says Chris, stammering and fidgeting. "He treated me like a normal person and saw my capacity, I wasn't just some stupid poor orphan boy to him." Once his blush subsided, he looks up again.

"Most of the money I earned went to the orphanage. With that money I could buy more food, more clothes and other things that the government didn't supply to the orphanage for the kids. If I had money left over I would treat the kids and the Matron to sweet bread or candy. It made them so happy, while it lasted."

Artemis continued staring at Chris but his gaze had softened a bit. He and Chris are completely the opposite. The boy was selfless and preferred looking out for everybody rather than himself. Artemis, to this day, remains selfish who only cares about himself and a select group of people. Though Chris had nothing for himself —the only things he could call his own was four changes of clothes and this tree house— he knew what he really wanted and he was completely content with just helping. Artemis had everything, but he needs more and he didn't know just what.

"But I really need a job right now," Chris says. "Ever since the diner closed down I haven't been able to find a new one."

"Ah, but the home is being renovated and we will be donating things to you," Artemis points out. "It's not really necessary."

Chris bit his bottom lip the started off softly, "Next month is my birthday. August fifteenth. I never dreaded the day like I do now. I'm even losing sleep over it."

"And why is that?" Artemis says, his brow creasing.

"It is my eighteenth birthday. That day, I-"

"Get cut off from orphanage services," Artemis completes. It automatically clicked.

Chris nods solemnly. "I'll get kicked out. The Matron wants to keep me but she can't. The council won't let her and I won't let her get in trouble because of me. I'll leave, but I have...no where to stay. I'm going to be homeless, and I'm so scared, Mr. Fowl. So scared."

Chris looks down and looks down to his hands and sat completely still. At that precise moment, Chris contradicted himself, because he was trying to hide his emotions from showing, such as sadness and fear. And he was doing it well, that emotionless look and the way he wasn't moving made him look dead.

Artemis didn't feel comfortable, didn't like looking at him like that. Such a kinda and gentle boy doesn't deserve to feel like that.

Artemis finally looks away from Chris to the large window. The sun was setting.

"Lesson is over for today," he says, standing.

-oOo-

"Something's on your mind," Butler comments once they were in their hotel room.

"What makes you say that?" Artemis asks, while he takes out his laptop and some papers.

"Your brow has been creased since we left St. Bridged's. And Christian had a brooding expression when we left the tree house. Did something happen?"

"Butler, why do bad things happen to good people?" Artemis asks suddenly, completely ignoring Butler's question.

Butler was caught off-guard. Little were the times did Artemis ask him things, and he knew the answers to his own questions, he always did.

And lately Artemis has been asking him about humans. Why do they do this? Why would they feel that? For some reason, the psychology scholar just couldn't seem to comprehend simple emotions.

"Why do you think?" Butler answers with a question, knowing his charge obviously knew.

"I have my own theories," Artemis says, interlacing his fingers while looking at the laptop screen. "I want to know what you think."

"I think that people that are naturally kind and good can't distinguish bad things," says Butler. "Because kind people like to think of the good things in the world and since real good people don't do good things to get things back, bad things like to take advantage of them."

Artemis nods thoughtfully, still looking at his screen. "That is what I also think," he murmurs as he begin typing. And he should know. The times he himself has taken advantage of good things are innumerable.

"But I also think that they're repaid in the end. Even if it's a really small payment, they still get some sort of happiness," Butler finishes.

"This time, Artemis looks at Butler. "You're speaking about karma. I didn't know you believed in such things. You have been reading too many romantic novels, old friend."

Butler cleared his throat uncomfortably. "How are the lessons coming along?" he asks to change the subject.

"Splendid," Artemis answers and Butler didn't detect a sarcastic tone. "Since he isn't completely idiotic he's learning quickly. Any sorry excuse for a teacher he's had didn't see his true capacity."

"And is that all he does? Read?"

"No," Artemis says, taking out some papers, looking over some then continuing to type down. "His grammar and spelling lessons are going well and he no longer hesitates about writing. He pays a lot of attention among his other subjects like history and he can do complex equations. Overall his learning is going quite smoothly."

Butler's eyebrows raised slightly. Never has Artemis taken it this seriously. He's never taught, never had the interest and patience to do it. He barely gives conferences and the lessons he gave Beckett were short, not the whole thing. And it also surprises Butler that Artemis fit it in his schedule, since he knew Artemis was a busy man. But he didn't doubt in his charge. He knew that Artemis was a great multitasker.

And it also surprised him how he didn't insult Chris in any way (directly anyways) or how he hasn't gotten frustrated. Nor has Chris said anything to Artemis or complained.

If they weren't both men I would suspect that they are dating, thought Butler as he sat.

Then he thought about it. Are they? Artemis hasn't shown much interest in love since he was a teenager and that so he couldn't tell. And Chris has such an androgynous look and he has such motherly mannerisms, if he'd dress up as a girl he'd actually pass off as one.

Butler's mouth tightens into a slim, grim line. He never even considered Artemis being gay. And Artemis being one that supports gay rights, would he himself be disgusted to do it? Probably not, since Artemis wasn't at all religious and he himself had once said that scientifically speaking, homosexuality isn't an abnormality and that heterosexual sex was supposed to be used only for breeding. Any other feeling is beyond science. "Since all humans have the same emotions, they don't have to necessarily be over the same thing, do they?" Artemis has once mentioned to him. "If you get mad over something and I get mad, it probably won't ever be about the same thing."

And Butler considered the comment. He just couldn't bring himself to the idea. But if Artemis was such a thing, then he'd accept him. Because he was his friend, and because Chris is a good boy anyways.

"Butler, can you organize these papers for me?" Artemis asks, putting a large pile of papers on the corner of the desk.

Butler grimaced. No matter how devoted he was to Artemis, he'll never like doing office things.

-oOo-

"Hey, Mr. Fowl?" Chris says the next day during their lunch break.

"Yes?" Artemis asks, who was typing something down on his computer. While Chris did his activities and read Artemis did work.

"Why won't you tell me about yourself? The only thing I know about you is that you're very smart and rich."

Artemis glances at him. "I hadn't realized we reached that personal level."

"Well, I told you my life story yesterday," Chris says, nodding.

Artemis sighs. He beat him in that part, he had to admit. I've been teaching him well, he thought. "What would you like to know?"

"Well...anything," smiles Chris. "As long as I get to know you better. For example, um," Chris made a thoughtful face. "You're one of the bosses of this big company right?"

"Yes, Artemis answers.

"And you have two younger brothers that are twins, right?"

"Yes," Artemis repeats, not really fond of answering personal questions, even if they were this simple.

"Do you have any friends?" asks Chris.

"Of course. Some, not much," Artemis answers.

Chris gave a wide smile. "I'm sure they're really nice though, like you."

The boy honestly thinks I'm nice, how naïve," Artemis thinks, and looks up at Chris's smiling face. "Are those your questions?"

Chris shook his head quickly. "No...I have a last one. Have you ever loved, Mr. Fowl?"

"I'm not completely heartless," Artemis says.

"I know, but have you ever had a lover? I don't know a, er, girlfriend?"

Artemis abruptly stopped typing. "Once. It was the worst mistake in my life."

Chris frowns. "But...I don't think it couldn't of been that bad."

"What do you know?" Artemis chuckles softly. "You can be so naïve, Christian."

Chris flinches, it was the first time Artemis has ever called him by his name. "I'm sure it couldn't of..."

"You barely know beyond the orphanage," Artemis continues. "Humans are cruel things, and you honestly think there is good in everyone."

"Because there is!" Chris says, fidgeting nervously.

"Don't make me pity you more than I already do," says Artemis in a soft voice, and he continued typing.

He didn't see the hurt face Chris did. Chris put his hands down. "I have this chore I need to do," he says in a meek voice, and left Artemis alone in the tree house, and Artemis didn't notice until late.


End file.
